Page 53 of Vampire so Virtuous (Boston Vampires #1)

The clock showed half past four, but Antoine was done waiting.

“Go to bed, Marcel,” he said, sweeping up his coat from the arm of his chair as he strode toward the door.

“I think that is a good idea, sir,” Marcel said sleepily. “Do an old man a kindness and take the Lamborghini? I left the keys in the hall.”

With the roads empty, it took only twelve minutes for Antoine to pull up outside Roberto’s house, and he didn’t wait for the thrall who stepped forward to open his door. The Lamborghini’s engine ticked as it cooled.

“Where are Lady d’Aubigny’s rooms?”

The thrall saw his expression and took a hasty step back. “In the west wing, my lord.”

Antoine walked past him, ignoring the others flanking the main door. They hurried to open it for him.

The large living room where they’d gathered previously was mostly empty, but Matteo and Nico sat together in one corner, glancing up as he entered.

Figures they’d be here. Minh clinging to Roberto’s coattails, and his allies in attendance.

He spared them no further thought, walking through the room toward the western part of the house. The hallway stretched long, giving him plenty of time to see the two thralls that waited outside the door to Belle’s rooms.

One raised a hand as he approached. “Apologies, my lord, but by Lady d’Aubigny orders, these rooms are off limits.”

Antoine kept walking.

Both the thralls tensed, reaching inside their jackets. “I must insist you stop and turn around, my lord.”

They held their ground until he was a dozen feet away, then withdrew their hands, each gripping a sleek, heavy-duty taser, dual cartridges in each snub-nosed barrel.

Interesting choice. Obviously, they’d work on vampires—otherwise they wouldn’t have them—but Antoine had no intention of experiencing it firsthand.

His shadows flooded the hallway, obscuring him.

The thralls didn’t hesitate—they fired immediately, not waiting for his attack.

Smarter than Minh’s grunts . They spread their shots, the probes fanning out to cover the maximum area.

Even with his vampiric speed, two came dangerously close.

He swayed aside, letting them whistle past, trailing their wires, then pressed to the wall and closed the gap.

The men reacted without hesitation, moving closer together, weapons raised, shifting so both faced outward.

Better trained and faster, too. Where did you find them, Belle?

If thralls like this had been in the nightclub, things might have gone differently.

His shadows didn’t quite reach them, but he didn’t need them to. Even their heightened reflexes weren’t enough to match him at full speed—especially when they stood between him and where he wanted to be.

He burst from the darkness into the first man’s face, striking twice in quick succession.

The first blow landed just beneath the sternum, knocking the breath from him.

The second caught him mid-collapse, carefully weighted, helping him into unconsciousness.

Thralls like this were too valuable to kill.

But it had still taken valuable seconds, and the other thrall was fast enough for that to be all he needed.

The man reached past his fallen comrade and fired at point-blank range. Two barbed probes pierced Antoine’s jacket, embedding themselves in his skin beneath, delivering fifty thousand volts. His muscles spasmed, every nerve igniting in cramping, searing pain. For a heartbeat, he couldn’t move.

Then he clenched his jaw, ripped the weapon from the thrall’s grasp, and crushed it in his fist. The pain receded in a rush, leaving only a lingering ache.

“Ow,” he said through gritted teeth, glaring at the thrall as electric tremors still flickered through his body.

The thrall staggered back, eyes wide, reaching inside his jacket again. But Antoine was on him a second later, slamming the unfortunate man into the wall. The impact bounced him back, and a sharp blow to the neck finished the job.

Antoine pulled the probes from his flesh and let them drop, then took a breath and shook his head.

This was so much easier when all they had were swords and muskets.

He spared the two thralls a glance. Both were unconscious, neither dead.

Belle wouldn’t likely care either way, but they were only doing their job—and doing it well.

They’d have stopped most vampires in Boston—including him, if he hadn’t fed on Minh.

That was a concern. Thralls shouldn’t have so much power.

But the door was now unguarded, and he put them out of his mind.

Antoine squared his shoulders, ready to face Belle down yet another time. Why was it that even after all these years, the thought of seeing her still tied his stomach in knots?

He pushed open the door, not bothering to knock. She’d have heard the commotion anyway.

Her suite was an open-plan living area, washed in uninspiring shades of cream, but Antoine hardly noticed. Belle wasn’t there, but Cally was limp and lifeless on the sofa, like a discarded toy.

She mirrored éliane—just as broken, just as helpless.

He crossed the room in a blur of speed, unaware of his steps, sinking to his knees beside her on the carpet.

“No…” The cry broke from him, sharper than any pain the taser had caused. Why had he let Belle take her?

Cally stirred. “Antoine?” she said, her voice thick with sleep.

The words broke from him. “You’re alive!”

Of course she is, you fool. You can smell her blood.

Her eyes opened, gradually focusing on him. Would he ever get over how startling and gray they were? So beautiful they took his breath away.

It was a momentary weakness, but he gathered her into his arms, crushing her to his chest and burying his face in her neck.

Her scent washed over him—her faint natural musk, fresh with a subtle citrus edge.

But there was also Belle’s scent, the sharp tang of perspiration, and the lingering trace of Cally’s arousal clinging to her clothes.

Belle had fed on her.

“I missed you too,” she said dryly. “Let me breathe?”

He reluctantly released her, drawing back and clearing his throat, surprised by his own sudden outburst. “I was… checking for injuries.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, a note of disbelief in her voice. Then her brow furrowed. “What did you say when you woke me? Alive?”

Why had he thought she wasn’t? It seemed so foolish now. Damn it, Belle has been here a day and she’s already messing with my head. “No, ma chérie , I said ‘I’ve arrived.’”

She gave him a funny look, then shrugged. “Is it dawn already?”

“Not quite. Where’s Belle? ”

“She went to a meeting.”

Antoine stilled. “She left you here alone?” In a house full of vampires, and she leaves her alone?

“She said I’d be safe, that she left orders for no one to come in here,” Cally said. “Clearly, that doesn’t include you.”

Antoine pushed himself up and turned away, taking a steadying breath. Just her scent had him on edge, and how badly he wanted her blood! It had been years since he’d felt so little control. Decades.

Longer than that, even.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “We need to talk.”

“We should go. Belle could be back soon. We can talk later.”

“We should talk now. This concerns Belle anyway.”

He turned back, eyes narrowing as he took in her determined expression. Aside from Belle feeding on her, she was unscathed. Maybe there was no harm in staying for a few minutes longer. Besides, with Cally, ‘determined’ could easily become ‘stubborn’.

With a measured breath, he walked to the sofa opposite hers, needing the space, and sat facing her.

She pushed herself up and straightened her hair with her fingers, retying it in a ponytail.

She was still wearing the thin body-hugging dress she’d had on at the nightclub, and it pulled taut across her breasts and toned stomach as her hands worked.

“About what?” he asked.

She finished tying her hair and let her hands drop into her lap, grimacing. “Damn, I need a shower.”

“You wish to talk about needing a shower?” He glanced at the various doors leading from the room. “There is a bathroom behind one of these. Would you like me to scrub your back?”

His words were meant to provoke, but they didn’t come out that way. Her eyes flicked to his, her cheeks tinged with a blush, and he could smell the rush of blood even from across the room.

“I… er… no,” she said, and gave an irritated shake of her head. “Can we be serious for a moment?”

“I was being serious,” he said quietly, realizing it was true.

Her blush deepened, little spots of red growing high on her cheekbones. “Belle talked to me at length last night. Tonight.” She corrected herself. Then, fixing him with her glare, she asked, “Do you know what I am?”

The force of her question made it sound as though she were angry with him. He frowned. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

She waved a hand in frustration. “What am I to you, Antoine? ”

His frown deepened. What did she want him to say? “Is this a… relationship question?”

She laughed again, the sound strained and brittle.

“That’s funny,” she said, in a voice that made it clear it wasn’t.

“Fucking hilarious, in fact.” She glared.

“Want to get married? You know, life-long commitment? Just you and me, forever and ever?” She paused, the words catching in her throat.

“Til death do us…” She trailed off, blinking rapidly as she looked away.

Antoine stared at her. “What has Belle said to you? What is this about?”

Cally shook her head and dashed her hand across her eyes. “Is dawn too early for a strong drink?” She took another breath, then met his eyes across the expanse of carpet between them. “One last time, Antoine. What am I?”

It was clear she was serious, even though he didn’t know what answer she wanted. He chose honesty. “Strong, stubborn, beautiful, occasionally aggravating, fiercely independent, impulsive and dangerously reckless.” He checked if he’d missed anything important, then gave a satisfied little nod.